


The Long Way

by Tat_Tat



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:19:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stranger forces himself on Luke in an ally. But is it really a stranger?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Way

London was an abyss of fog. It was like a great beast breathed warmly into the cold night air. Luke pulled his coat close and sighed, adding to the fog.

Luke walked the streets at night at least once a month. It was strange for him to stay up past ten, stranger still for him to be walking so late for no reason. It had started as faint curiosity-- he never had experienced what it was like to go about at night, and since then it was a habit that occurred every so often. Perhaps it was for a change of pace that he did it.

What he did next was a worse move than wandering at night. He slipped through an alleyway-- a short cut home-- however, as he felt himself hitch in the grip of someone stronger than himself he realized the long way would have been quicker and less humiliating than this.

“Let go of me,” he barked.

The man was unrelenting, pulling Luke forward. Luke beat on the man's chest and raised his leg upwards to somewhere fragile--

“Ahn,” the young man hissed as he was swung around and his arm was twisted behind his back. The grit of the brick grated on his cheek. 

The sound of a zipper alerted the youth to the fact that his money or life wasn't in danger. He writhed and began to scream, “Help!” but a bunched-up handkerchief muffled his protests and his pants were lowered.

He squeezed his eyes as the head of the man's member ran across his entrance, teasing his pride. And there was warning, but still, it came so suddenly: the girth of his assaulter and the weight pushing against his body. 

The man groaned and Luke screamed against the gag. He gave faint winces; he had been given no time to accommodate to his attacker. It was as if the man had restrained himself only until this moment, taking from Luke all he had, paying attention only to his own pleasure. Luke's body jarred, moving forward with each lunge. He thought he was going to split in half; the last thing he would hear would be his rapist's harsh breath and the slap of skin against skin.

“How do I feel?” The words were hot, slithering under Luke's skin. 

He hung limply against the brick, swinging forward only to the rhythm of the man behind him. 

And then, of all things, Luke came. “No...” he muttered, body riveted against his will. Nothing was going to his will anymore and he hated it. He hated hearing the man chuckle, defeated in even what he chose to be his pleasure and pain. He hated with intense passion, especially to when all grew still and his plunderer spilled his essence inside him. It poured out, sliding down Luke's legs.

The man pulled away and fell back onto the wall opposite, catching his breath. Luke turned and pulled the gag from his mouth. He pulled his pants up and reached into his pockets.

“It's only the third time we've done this and you're already so rough, Professor.” 

“My apologies,” Layton breathed, wiping his brow.  
Luke pulled out a collection of tissues and wiped his legs. “No. It's a good thing. I like it like this-- otherwise I wouldn't ask that we do this sometimes.” Clean for the most part, Luke pulled his pants up and took Layton's hand. The professor took it to get to his feet, but soon let go. 

Despite what they had done, holding hands in public seemed a far greater offense.


End file.
